


Dichotomy

by PrinceSnarking



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 10:26:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceSnarking/pseuds/PrinceSnarking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The real reason Sherlock hates Anderson. Fill for the Sherlock BBC Kink Meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dichotomy

_Sergeant Donovan. An old friend._

Oh, if only John could deduce, he would see the underlying meaning behind those words. But no, of course it goes right over his head. Why can’t he see?

_“I’ll deny this ever happened.”_

_“Of course you will.”_

_“I mean it, Freak.”_

_“Mmm. An interesting bedroom tactic, Sergeant.”_

_“Shut up and fuck me.”_

And now Sally was demeaning herself to sleep with Anderson. _Anderson_ of all people. That worthless, unskilled, uneducated idiot. She could do so much better, had done so much better. She best hope idiocy isn’t contagious, isn’t spread like a sexually transmitted disease.

_“I know why you’ve taken such a disliking to him, Freak.”_

_“You have no idea of what you speak.”_

_“Please. You’re acting like a love spurned moron.”_

_“Don’t flatter yourself.”_

_“I don’t need to. Your actions speak for you.”_

It wasn’t that he was _actually_ romantically inclined towards her, of course he wasn’t that was utterly ridiculous to suggest such a thing. But for a competent (or as competent as any of those idiotic police officers were) woman such as herself, to lower herself to the standards of a married man with an IQ lower than a garden hose, when she could have a certifiable genius in her bed, well, that was self-destructive behavior if Sherlock saw any.

_“It was just sex. You know that, right?”_

_“Of course I know that. I’m not a moron- unlike your current bed mate.”_

_“Jealousy doesn’t suit you freak.”_

_“Neither does idiocy suit you.”_

It doesn’t help that she haunts his dreams. Her mocking tone, her soft flesh under his hands, her lips against his, and _God,_ when he sits up, awake in a sweat, all he thinks about is her. And he _hates_ her for it, but not nearly as much as he hates the idiot that she’s shagging.

How could he possibly have lost out to Anderson? 


End file.
